I don’t think I can take much more of this. It’s killing me. I can’t go on. I’ll go on. (Samuel Beckett)
Sea is excited about going to Tokyo in a couple of weeks to spend a few million dollars and take some cute photos. She posed in some painful pointy Givenchy pumps, and twittered about vaginas and her dad’s cell phone.
Mom confided that she “had to have” these Lucite Prada shoes from Neiman’s. ($975) Not only that, but Sea “managed to snag a pair of the satin platforms … and they are really incredible.”
Who would like to deconstruct the phrase “managed to snag” in this context?
UPDATE: Now there are new Celine sandals for both Sea and Mom, and some hideous new garbage jewelry that was “sent” from Paris.
Sea won’t post your comments but you can leave them here. I’ll go first.
Dear Sea, Have you tried adding up the damage, shoe-wise, for the last month? Why are you throwing away your youth on this project? You’re staring to look nuts in those photos. Your outfits say “35 year old divorcee, circa 1980.” This is not a compliment. Stop the insanity and maybe poor dad can retire. Love, xo SW.
How does it work anyway, i mean when they go shopping together, does she have an allowance? her own card? A side job at a sausage factory? or is there some sort of sick trade off between She That Holds the Plastic and Sea:
Jane dear do you like these shoes on me?
yes mummy
are they pretty?
yes mummy
do you want some too?
yes mummy
Of course you do. because you like what i like. that’s why i bore you.
yes, thank you mummy
I know when i was a super model in the eighties my old face and i used to cruise around tokyo with my gay japanese boyfriend and i had shoes just like these! Oh do you really like them on me janey?
yes mummy
You have to remember to take pictures of me in them later, dont go running off to finish your ‘work’ or ‘projects’. Mummy is always first.
yes mummy
No one will ever love you like I do Janey…not even him (ronnie/amit, they’re the same person really).
-sniff- ye…yes mummy
Sigh. Well Ive decided that you can score some too, but not the same exact kind…you’ll get the ugly variation of it because I dont want us to be too matchy-matchy. And I get to post them first. Now go tell Anita to box these up….and crack the window in the van for Carol.
Father Time – Oooh, that was scary! It gave me chills. More!
Consuela is the fictitious name I invented for the Housekeeper who I suspect holds down the fort in a Domestic Sense for the family.
SW – Can you please provide a link to a post where Jane uses the word curating? I am studying the role of the museum curator and I find all of this “shoe curating” business to be pretty amusing. I’d like to read it in context!
Faux Fuchsia – Are you saying Consuela isn’t real?? Surely not!
Isobel – Just go to the blog and do a search for the word.
Can we discuss this please:
“# Geez its exhausting hauling around a bunch of clothes and camera equipment in very painful shoes..even worse with bad weather! about 16 hours ago”
God Jane, your life is so tough. Hang in their girl, or better, TAKE THE DAMN SHOES OFF AND STOP PHOTOGRAPHING YOURSELF.
Oh THANKYOU! Not that I don’t love the majority of Jane’s outfits and shoes (though those beaded animals she wears are by and large HIDEOUS), but someone had to say it. That’s too much money to be spent on a non-profit organisation. Thankyou Miss Mad. I am now a huge fan.
PS I am sorry for calling you ‘Miss Mad’ – I am a new reader and not sure of how to address you.
PPS Father Time, I LOVE YOU. I cried with laughter.
PPPS Jane’s blog makes me sad for a number of reasons. One, because she seems to think that this is all normal. Two, because if she was remotely charitable she’d sell half her collection to me at 1% of the original cost (then maybe I could afford it on my salary). Three, because blogging is not a career and should not be. And four, because before reading this and realising exactly how ridiculous the whole thing is, I aspired to be like her. Thankfully I have a job, a few friends and a real live pet.
PPPPS Sea has just tweeted ‘can I wear goat fur to prom?’